


Bridges

by titC



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Titles, Whump, Woobie, can I use the same title twice, inordinate love for the past perfect, use and abuse of the continuous form, yes I have favourite words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not your usual "they had a kid" fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridges

Whatever reaction Chloe could have imagined, it wasn't that one.

Lucifer was staring at her like he didn't quite know whether to cry or kill – not her, but someone. It reminded her of his rages with some of the suspects they'd chased together, wild and terrifying. She'd always managed to calm him down, before. She wasn't sure she could, at that moment.

“I thought... I didn't think this could happen.” He sounded pained, almost physically hurt.

“I know. I know, but it did! It shouldn't have, but it really did. I... I'm keeping it.”

“You can't! No no no no no, this is bad, this is – why did it – it's my _father_ again and I can't – ” He jumped up, walked towards her, turned around, started gesticulating like a madman.

The sudden flurry dazed her, and Chloe sat down on the sofa. She felt a bit sick.

“Look. I understand, we never discussed it, and it's fine if you don't want to be a father. You're good with Trixie though, you know? You're _not_ your father. But it's _my_ decision, and you don't have to be responsible for _my_ decision.” She watched him have some sort of nervous breakdown, unable to connect with him. “Just... call me, all right?”

When she left, he was standing in the middle of the room, almost vibrating, his eyes lost in the distance.

 

Driving to work, Chloe wondered if her decision was the right one. Sure, Trixie would love having a baby brother or sister, and after having been told she probably wouldn't have children ever when she was 15 a second child felt like a god-given miracle she couldn't refuse. But her relationship with Lucifer was maybe not the best family environment for a child – and could she, really, raise two kids on her own? She'd probably have to leave homicide. Make tough choices.

But what was wrong with Lucifer, honestly? Surprise, incredulity, a bit of healthy new-parent fear; that was understandable. But this? She thought back to his weird delusions. Every time she felt she could almost believe him after seeing him throw a man through plated glass or seemingly come back to life after having been shot, something happened to make her come back to reality. She remembered his blood after she'd shot him, his not very satanic connection to father Frank, his occasional adorkable moments of awkwardness.

Even that debacle with his mother when Maze and Amenadiel almost kidnapped her to keep her from going to him when he was, according to them, fighting for his life ended up with Lucifer reappearing a few days later, joking and winking his way through the bullpen to her desk as if nothing had happened the past few weeks. It was as if he'd never jumped from a roof to escape smoke while she was too far away to tell him _it was just smoke,_ as if she'd never seen those camera records from the mall where a red, burned-looking man wearing Lucifer's  torn designer clothes was stabbing a weird blurry shape just before the mall surveillance system shorted out. The technicians had blamed all the weirdness on the fried equipment anyway.

H e was no devil, but was he sane enough to raise a child? Sure, Trixie adored him and after a bit of mandatory grumbling never refused to babysit her, but this was different. They'd only been,  more tentatively that she'd expected on his part, sort-of-dating for a few months now but they'd met almost a year ago now. What was wrong with him?

 

When she got back home, she found Amenadiel sitting on her porch.

“Hello, Chloe. May we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” She unlocked her door and hooked her purse of the back of a kitchen chair. “Want something to drink?” Lucifer's brother always made her feel unsettled. She never quite knew what to think of him.

“No, thank you. I've just talked to Luci.”

“...Ah. He told you.” She sat heavily.

“Yes. I had warned him not to get involved with a human, but of course he did. And now you're expecting. This is a problem.”

“A... a _problem_? No, it's a child. And can you both stop it with the you-lowly-humans shtick? What is wrong with you people, honestly? Why are you here, to carry me to the nearest abortion clinic? Go to Hell!” She wished she had slammed the door on his face but he was already inside, the weasel. She hadn't even invited him in.

Amenadiel almost, almost smiled. “No. It wouldn't work anyway. My brother is, in fact, going back to Hell and asked Maze and me to help and protect you, your daughter and the... your son.” He'd wanted to say something else, she thought.

“Okay, first of all, how could you know it's a boy and second, Maze and you? Is this a joke?” She felt like crying. “And... he left me? Now?” What a bastard. What a fucking – _bloody_ , his voice echoed in her head – jerk.

“You've never believed that we are who we are.” He sat down, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before he went on. He had a nice, soothing voice but what he was saying was not soothing at all. “He is trying to make a deal with our father. For you, for all of us. This child, Lucifer's child, has prophecies written about him. If they were to come true...”

“I don't care about prophecies! I – ”

Her phone cut her off. “Decker. Yes I – what? What happened? How is she? Oh thank god. I'll be there in a – yeah, ok.” She glared at Amenadiel. “Hi. How did you know to be there? Don't tell me Lucifer – fine. Yeah, I'm home. Yeah, he's here.” Maze, she mouthed. He looked utterly unsurprised. “It's okay, Mrs Jameson; yes, she's a family friend. All right. Thank you.”

“The school”, he said. He didn't even ask.

“Yeah. Apparently a fire started in the kitchens, Maze spotted it and rang the alarm. Saved everyone, apparently.”

“So it's started then.”

They remained silent, facing each other at her kitchen table; her shell-shocked, him grave.

 

When Trixie ran inside with Maze in tow, Chloe had been waiting on the porch for ten minutes with Amenadiel at her side. She scooped her baby girl up in her arms as if nothing could ever tear them apart. _Thank you_ , she mouthed to Maze. _Thank you_.

 

Chloe felt she would never, ever be able let to let go of Trixie. They were both curled on the sofa, while Amenadiel was getting pizza delivered and Maze was walking around her house, probably doing something weird and scary.

“So I'm going to have a baby sister or brother?”

“Brother,” Amenadiel said sitting down on the armchair.

Chloe glared at him, because she was fed up with his insistence on the boy thing. “ _We don't know yet_. But yes, you're going to be a big sis!”

“Is Lucifer coming to live with us?”

“Well, he's had to go on a business trip and, um.” Oh god, how was she going to explain things to an eight-year-old? She was saved by Maze's return.

“I did what I could. Not enough, probably. Did you get booze too? I _need_ booze.”

Amenadiel frowned. “No alcohol. Here,” he said, holding out two pendants to Chloe and Trixie. “Put these on, and never take them off.”

“What are those?”

“They're, ah – ”

“They're a present from Lucifer. Because he can't be here.” Maze cut him off, but he looked grateful instead of annoyed.

“Oooh, a present!” Trixie eagerly put the necklace on, a big happy smile on her face.

 

Trixie seemed utterly oblivious to the tension between the adults, and Chloe felt grateful for that at least. After they'd eaten without much enthusiasm – except for Trixie – and after Chloe had put her to bed, she felt it was more than time to demand explanations.

“Look Maze,” she ignored the moue her using the nickname often elicited, “I owe you for today, I truly do, but you can't lurk around the school all day long; even if Lucifer told you to. It's creepy, someone will end up seeing and reporting you, and it won't end well. I don't even understand why he'd ask you to do that.”

“Because my stupid, reckless brother is trying to help you.”

“He won't even answer his phone! Just – cut it out, tell him to cut it out and... I'm not asking him to become what he's not, but did he really have to fly back to London or wherever, stop answering my calls, and just ignore me while turning you both into watchdogs? This isn't making any sense!” It was hard not to raise her voice. “If he's the devil like you're all pretending he is, why aren't there legions of demons around my house, then, huh? He's just... he's just left me as soon as things didn't go his way, leaving you to deal with his cowardice, that's what it is.” She was so, so angry.

Maze and Amenadiel kept silent, and Chloe stood up to clear the coffee table of the remains of their meal. She needed to feel like she was doing something, anything, even if it was cramming half-empty pizza boxes in the fridge.

 

Maze abruptly jumped to her feet and ran to Trixie's door. “What is it?” Chloe asked from the kitchen.

“She's afraid, but I can't feel anything hostile.” There was a flash of metal between Maze's fingers.

Chloe opened the room's door and they heard a soft whimper from the lump under the cover. “You've got good ears,” she said. “She's having a nightmare. Had them since the kidnapping.” Chloe went in to comfort her daughter, trying to ignore Amenadiel's cryptic “well, at least we know they work” and memories of Lucifer distracting Trixie from her nightmares with ridiculous stories.

 

As she got back to her living room, Amenadiel looked up at her from his clasped hands and stood up.

“Look, I know you don't believe it, but here it is. This child you're carrying is Lucifer's child. Heaven will try to destroy him _because_ he's Lucifer's child, Hell will try to destroy him to avoid the Apocalypse when Hell's forces are prophesied to be annihilated. That's all there is, and that's what Luci's trying to prevent from happening. Maze and I'll stick around whether you like it or not. You saw what almost happened to your daughter today. Take this a as a warning.” He took a step in her direction. “Be careful. If anything happened to either of you...”

“I'm a _cop_. I hunt killers, I swore to protect people, and I am not superstitious! Just – it's late, I'm tired, and I'd like for you to leave now. Please.”

 

In her bedroom at last, ready to close the shutters and go to sleep at last, she saw something move outside. She squinted and recognized Maze. Too tired to go back downstairs and yell at her, Chloe shook her head and decided to let them do whatever they thought they needed to, as long as they were not interfering with her life. Their lives.

She fell asleep with a hand on her stomach.

 

The next few weeks were a bit of a blur. She tried not to dwell too much on anything – going to work, dealing with her mother's reaction to her pregnancy, going to the doctor, dealing with the bouts of nausea, taking Trixie to see her father... At least Dan was not in prison anymore, even if he'd been condemned to community service and had lost his badge. She felt almost sorry for her ex when Trixie told him excitedly she was going to be a big sis, but she didn't feel up to elaborating. She had never really gotten over what had happened with Malcolm, and he accepted that. Sort of.

Nothing really strange happened either; she thought she could see Maze or Amenadiel sometimes from the corner of her eye, but they never came to talk to her again. Well, there was the time a flowerpot almost fell on her head from a balcony, and the time a strong gust of wind sent a bin to slam into her police car, but these were all normal, everyday things, weren't they? Not a sign that supernatural creatures were trying to kill her.

That Saturday morning, she was enjoying staying a bit longer than usual in her bed. Trixie was with Dan, and she felt she could indulge and pamper herself this weekend. She would avoid checking the news for two entire days, she'd try and forget about war-mongering and earthquakes and terror attacks. She stretched, her eyes still closed, enjoying the breeze coming from the half-open window and picturing the long, foamy bath she was about to treat herself to.

Wait.

She'd closed her window yesterday evening, the forecast had warned of strong winds.

She opened her eyes.

 

Lucifer was sitting on the floor, at the foot of her bed, watching her like she was fresh, blessed water and he was lost in the desert. He looked horrible: prominent cheekbones and dry lips, bruised knuckles, yellowish skin, uneven beard. Even his clothes looked worse for wear.

“You bastard.”

He had the gall to close his eyes and smile softly, the arrogant jerk.

She wasn't feeling relaxed and comfy anymore; she was furious. “How dare you come into my house while I'm sleeping, you creep? After leaving me high and dry without a word of explanation? Who do you think you are, you selfish dick?” She stood up too quickly and wavered a bit, but he sprang up and caught her.

Once she had sat back on the bed, he went back to his previous spot on the floor.

“I needed... I'm sorry. I needed to see you.” He looked outside. “Maze tells me you're doing fine, that you're safe, but I needed. Needed to see you. So I came. I can't stay for long though.”

“Have you thought just one minute about what I needed, what I wanted?”

“I did. I do, every day.” He scanned the room, avoiding her eyes. “Hey!” She flinched at his sudden mood whiplash. “Do you want breakfast? Can I cook you breakfast? You and the little one need a hearty brekkie, right? Right? Eating for two now, eh?”

At that, he jumped up again and started bounding out of her bedroom in direction of the stairs. She felt her mouth fall agape.

“Lucifer! Lucifer, wait!” He stopped on the second stair and turned around, a brittle, forced smile on his lips. “Oooh, want something else before food, hmm?” It sounded so fake, so unlike the Lucifer she knew. Had known. Maybe not known, in fact.

She willed herself to walk to him, her eyes on his back. “Why is there blood all over your shirt?” She touched a fold of fabric, and her fingers came back red. “You're still bleeding. What the hell...?”

“Precisely,” he joked.

She glared at him. “Just... I'm still very angry with you, but you need first to take your shirt off and and let me see your back. Is it your father again? You really should file a complaint, you know. I'll take you to the hospital if it's bad, all right? You can't – ” He raised a hand and almost put a finger on her lips, hovering over her mouth but not daring to touch.

“Please, don't. Let it be. I'm fine. I just wanted to see you, see you were safe. I thought your little human would be here too.” Chloe felt herself smile at his usual pet name for Trix. He seemed disappointed not to see her, and she remembered all he'd done for the both of them. But when they became three he'd run away. “I apologize. I should go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” She grabbed his arm, noting his wince and loosening her hold on him but still dragging him to the bathroom. “Take your shirt off and let me see.”

“Chloe...”

“Now.”

He looked a little bit like a boy scolded by his mother, except when he took the shirt off he was covered in bruises, scrapes, burns, and what looked like rather recent scars. When the fabric stuck to his back, he yanked on it before she had time to tell him not to.

“Turn around.”

Silently, he complied. His scars were a mess of bloody flesh, but the rest of his back wasn't much better. There were huge bruises over his kidneys, going down under his belt. He had to be pissing blood.

“Okay. Hospital it is. Then the precinct.”

He jerked around, almost overbalancing in his haste. “No. No, please, no; Chloe, no one can know I'm here. Please. It's too dangerous for you.”

“I really, really don't understand you. You claim to want to protect me, you disappear for months when I tell you I'm pregnant, you get your bartender to patrol around my house and Trixie's school, and when you suddenly pop back straight in my bedroom you look like you've been barely escaping death for weeks. How am I supposed to trust anything you say? It's like you think the Mafia's after you.”

A corner of his mouth went slightly up. “Not death. Not the Mafia.”

“Are you going to tell me it's the hounds of hell, or maybe hordes of angels?” She was digging through her first-aid kit, but raised her eyes at his answer.

“No, I won't.”

“Well. That's new.”

“I've learned you are cursed not to believe me, so... it would be pointless.”

“Cursed? Blessed with common sense and sanity, you mean. Sit here, I need to clean your back first.”

He fidgeted a bit on the stool while she was setting supplies on the counter.

“What?”

“I... do you mind if I get a shower first?”

“A shower? Are you crazy? With these injuries?”

“I'll be fine. There are no showers where I've been, and I miss them.”

“Even _my_ shower, with no fancy heads and massaging jets?”

“Especially yours.”

“I'm not showering with you.”

“You can't always get what you want, I guess.”

“You sure can't. Call me when you're done. You know where everything is.”

 

While she was starting the coffee and getting out his beloved tea from the back of her cupboard, she could hear the pipes groaning. What had happened? She was angry at him still, but worried too. She wished she could get answers from Maze or Amenadiel, but they'd made themselves scarce and they seemed to have the same delusions he had anyway. Maybe she could call Linda for some advice, but she guessed that she would respect her patient's confidentiality. Probably.

He needed help, but he'd also been a jerk. On the other hand, he really seemed to believe that it was for the best, that it was for her. She shook her head and went back upstairs after the pipes had been silent for a few minutes.

 

She knocked and walked into the bathroom. Lucifer was standing in front of the mirror, rinsing the old-fashioned razor he'd left here, a towel wrapped around his hips. He looked cleaner and neater, but he didn't really look any better. Blood was still oozing a little from his back, drops of it gathering in his scars and then flowing down his bruised skin to stain the white towel.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. You almost look human again.” He chuckled at that, and it warmed her a little. “Okay, so back on the stool with you. We can't have you bleeding all over your Prada shirts, can we?”

“Oh, you're right; we certainly can't.”

They were silent for a while, him alternating between staring at her in the mirror and avoiding her gaze when she looked up from the gauze and disinfectant, and her trying not to think about anything other than what her hands were doing.

When she was finished, he turned around to face her. “Chloe, I...” His eyes were everywhere but on her face. “Can I...?” He raised his hand a bit, over her thigh, over her stomach, over her hip.

She took it in her own, dragged it up to her face. He let her do what she wanted, drank in the sight of her closing her eyes when his palm curled around her cheek, drank in her sigh. He let her put his hand on her belly, under her tank top. She could feel his fingers trembling, hardly daring to skim the slight curve of it. “Chloe, I am so, so sorry...” She opened her eyes at his whisper, and watched him slowly, gingerly rest his forehead against her chest.

“Don't be,” she breathed out. “Not for that. I'm glad.” She smiled. “Trixie is overjoyed. But she misses you.” She ran her hand through his hair. It was soft, slightly longer than she remembered, curling a bit.

“I can't stay. I want to, but I can't...” his voice broke a bit on the last word. “I love you”, he whispered. _I love you_ , said his lips on her skin. _I love you_ , said his shuddery breath on her stomach. _I love you_.

Tears gathered into her eyes, but it was pointless to ask him to stay with her.

 

They remained there a long while, until there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“I know, Maze. I'm leaving.” He sat up and slowly unfolded himself, towering over Chloe once again. Tentative, he bent a little towards her, and when she slightly rose on her toes they shared a soft kiss.

“I'm still angry,” she whispered.

“I know,” he answered.

When she opened the door, she found Maze waiting there with a clothes bag. “Here. You have to hurry,” the bartender said.

A few minutes afterwards, Lucifer was gone, Maze was back to being invisible, and Chloe was alone again. Almost alone, she thought, trying to chase Lucifer's warmth on her skin with her fingers.

 

Pouring coffee into a mug, she decided she couldn't face Lucifer's tea taunting her from the counter or the depressing news on the radio, and went to sit on her porch. She really didn't know what to think. Was he actually in danger? She'd wondered before if he hadn't been linked to the Mafia, or under some sort of witness protection program, but it didn't feel right.

Chloe reconsidered talking to Linda. He did appear to be fine with her pregnancy, in fact; but how did you deal with a parent like Lucifer, probably delusional and paranoid, over-protective and a bit insane? She was an adult, she had known what she was getting into when she kissed him that night, a bit tipsy but so happy, up on the balcony. It had been a cool night, and after an eventful day chasing a would-be murderer the cocktail Maze had made her had gone straight to her head. She'd gone upstairs to cool down a little, and half an hour afterwards he'd gone up and joined her. She had been dozing, but seeing him from under her lashes smile down at her, throwing a light blanket over her – she'd decided enough was enough. “I'm awake,” she'd said. “Come sit with me.”

And he'd sat next to her but not touching, and she'd wiggled closer to him and touched his face, and she'd kissed him, and that was that.

 

Over the next few months, Lucifer reappeared a few times; each time a bit thinner, a bit grayer. Sometimes he just stayed a few minutes, more rarely a bit longer.

Once, she found him more or less unconscious on her sofa, with Maze and Trixie making dream-catchers out of white feathers, cross-legged on the floor next to him. When she walked in, her daughter came in for a hug and a whispered “he's so tired mommy, he fell asleep when we were watching _Beauty and the Beast_! Don't wake him up!” before vanishing in her room with Maze in tow. She sat on a bit of Lucifer-free sofa, and touched his brow. He stirred after a while, his eyes slitting half-open and blinking.

“Chloe,” he said with such a big, bright smile; the smile he'd given her in the morning before this fucked-up mess began, the smile that said I can't believe you're still here with me, I can't believe I'm waking up to your hand on my cheek. As always, it made her heart beat that little bit faster.

“How are you, Lucifer? Really?”

He shrugged, looking away from her face. “Your tiny human seems well.”

“Yeah. Yes, she is. Sad that she hardly ever sees you these days but I think Maze is taking over your coolest best friend ever title.”

He chuckled at that. “Good for them.”

“Yeah. Look, I've got something to show you.” She stood up and grabbed a kraft envelope from her desk. “Hey, you hungry? I think I've got leftovers in the fridge.”

He sat up on the sofa. “No you don't. Maze and Beatrice demolished them.”

“What about you?”

“I'm fine. What's in that envelope?”

She handed it to him. “See for yourself.”

He opened it and got a bunch of papers and photographs out. He started going through them, scanning the words until he got to the pictures. “It's...”

“Yes, it's a really tiny human. Our really tiny human.”

She watched his hand run over the glossy paper, following the curve of a skull, a folded arm, counting tiny toes. It stopped a bit on the shoulders, the upper back, rubbing as if to feel the body behind.

“Please don't say you're sorry ever again, Lucifer.”

“He's not even born yet and I'm probably already as horrible a father as dear old dad, aren't I.”

“Don't say that. At least you're doing what you think is best. But I'd like you to see Doctor Martin. She's helped you before, hasn't she?”

He sighed, and slid the papers back into the envelope. “She really can't help. I wish... I wish she could, truly.”

Chloe clearly wouldn't get through to him today, but it was worth a try anyway. “All right. Would you like to keep a picture with you, wherever it is you're going?”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. Here, you pick.”

When he left soon afterwards, clutching an echo of their son in his big hand, she found a blood-red rose on her pillow, a chocolate cake in the fridge with “for Trixie” on the box, and some snow-white down feathers on her bathroom floor. Huh.

 

That time, he'd only been visibly exhausted, but the next wasn't as good.

She'd got a text from Amenadiel, asking her to come to the penthouse and telling her Trixie was already there. She drove there after another long day, tired already from trying to make sense of cold cases, failing not to fidget when she saw her coworkers trying to deal with the escalating gang wars – maybe the heat wave was to blame? – and pretending her back was not sore and achy. She turned the radio on in the car. These last few days, the news had been mostly about the hellish fires raging in the state. They were getting closer to LA, and had already claimed the lives of several firefighters. The survivors all seemed dazed and terrified, mumbling about smart flames and living fire, and there were rumors about a burned man walking in the flames. Hallucinations always made her skin crawl.

When she got there, she found Trixie doing her homework in the kitchen while Maze sharpened knives and cleaned guns. “Hey, baby. I'm so proud you're doing your homework on your own!” She glared at Maze and her guns over her daughter's head, but the bartender glared right back. It was fine, they didn't really need words anymore now anyway. Trixie only squealed and squeezed her mother back.

As Chloe walked to Lucifer's bedroom though, she didn't feel as lighthearted. He was face down on his bed, and what she could see of his skin looked anywhere from an angry red to badly burned. “What happened?” Amenadiel shrugged, and looked at the muted TV in the corner showing yet more fires and billowing smoke.

“Found him there and brought him back. He's been acting stupid again.”

“Not deaf,” came a muffled answer. Lucifer cracked an eyelid open and watched her sit next to him.

“Hi there,” she said. “If I suggest the hospital, will you refuse again?”

“Mmmh,” he said. Slowly, gingerly, he crawled closer to her, ending up with his head in her lap. His cracked lips started bleeding a bit when he smiled up at her. “M'sorry m'a bit battered up, darling. I should be the one pampering you.” He sounded almost drunk, and that was a first.

“Pain meds,” Amenadiel answered her raised eyebrows. “Sort of.”

She chose to ignore half his answer and not whip her handcuffs out. “Okay. We need to treat your burns, Lucifer.” She didn't quite know where to touch him.

“Maze and I took care of it. Just stay with him for a while, will you? It'll do him good.” Amenadiel got out of the bedroom and closed the door.

“You should be more careful, you know.”

“Mmh. M'good. Hard to kill.”

After a while, she moved up the bed and sat against the wall, Lucifer on his side next to her. As she dozed, a hand in his hair, she felt his hand skim up her hip and rest on her belly, right under her navel. She thought she could hear a soft chuckle whenever the baby kicked, and her lips turned up a bit. Slowly, she entwined her fingers with his, and they followed the movements under her skin, pretending everything was normal and fine in their little world, here on this bed while outside the sunlight was slowly fading out under the city lights, yellow and red and orange.

Just when Chloe was really starting to fall asleep, Trixie peeked in from behind the door at them. “Hello?”

“”C'mere,” Lucifer said. He winced a bit when she climbed over him to sit between them, but he didn't make a sound. He took her hand, so small in his big one, and put in on Chloe's belly. “Say hello to your baby brother, little one. He's a feisty one, just like his mother.”

Chloe felt a bit like crying and laughing at the same time.

 

Amenadiel had been right, and Lucifer had looked much better when she left that evening, much more so than she'd expected. He'd even accompanied them to her car, leering a bit to make Chloe laugh and Trixie giggle and go “eww, grownup things!”.

Her daughter was excitedly babbling about her day from the back seat, school and Maze and Lucifer and her baby brother all rolled into a giant ball of happiness. Chloe smiled at her depiction of Amenadiel all serious and glum like the stern school nurse, Maze winking from behind him and making horns with her weird curved knives behind his head, Lucifer gently pulling her hair and saying she was soon going to be a medium-sized human and that _someone_ was going to steal the title of tiny human from her.

They probably deserved ice-cream tonight, she thought.

 

As the nine-month mark grew nearer, the world seemed to get crazier. Wars and natural disasters and horrible weather, Chloe felt like she was about to give birth to a child that had done nothing to deserve this kind of welcome.

Besides, Lucifer hadn't reappeared in six weeks, and she was worried. This was all so different from when Trixie had come into the world; her and Dan had still been going strong, he'd been there for her all the way, held her hand and praised her and cried when he'd held their daughter for the first time. She'd thought he'd be the best dad ever. Still, the first few weeks had been tough even with Dan. She was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed now: how was she going to cope with a newborn _and_ Trixie on her own? She didn't know what to expect from Lucifer. Dan was willing to be here for Trixie, and she guessed that Amenadiel and Maze would be around, but she really couldn't picture either of them changing nappies.

Well. They'd have to learn.

 

Two more weeks, the midwife had said.

Not quite, Chloe thought as she felt the baby coming.

Of course, there was a giant storm over LA that had cut off power and phone lines and she was on her own at home, even if Maze or Amenadiel were probably lurking nearby. Of course, it was night time. Of course, Lucifer's child would come at the most inconvenient time. Dammit.

Well, she knew what to expect, she'd done it before, countless women had given birth on their own and – auuugh. She was fine. She'd be fine, the baby'd be fine, it was all fine. Fine fine fine. At least Trixie was with her father.

In-between contractions, she walked about, laying blankets and towels and water and pillows on the kitchen floor, torches and extra batteries, checking her phone from time to time to see if there was any chance of calling for an ambulance.

Home-birth, they called it. Hah. Didn't look as comfy and nice as they made it out to be.

As she was crouching and panting through a contraction, there was a knock on the door. She could hardly hear it over the sound of thunder and rain pounding the roof, but soon the door was opening and Amenadiel was here, accompanied by a small, dark-haired, olive-skinned woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense expression. She was wearing some kind of hippie tunic, but Chloe decided that having weirdos with her was better than no one at all. She vaguely waved hi at them, her teeth clenched.

The woman, after moving her lips soundlessly as if looking for the right words, finally crouched in front of her. “Hello, Chloe. My name is Miriam. I'm here to help you tonight. As a mother helping another.” She sounded foreign, but Chloe just couldn't place the light accent.

“Gnn,” she answered. She tried to make it sound polite, at least. Did it sound nice? Whatever.

Miriam fussed a bit around the room while Amenadiel went back outside and Chloe tried to get her breath back. “I will boil some water,” she said.

The front door banged open and Lucifer ran in, wild-eyed and hardly held back by his brother. “What is _she_ doing here?”

“She's – Luci, wait!”

Chloe stood up shakily and touched his arm. “Where were you?”

His wrath seemed to melt from his face as he turned to her. “Oh, Chloe...” He turned her around to put himself between he and Miriam.

“Move, Lucifer. As you always tried not to harm my son, I shall not do any harm to yours.” She looked like she would make him budge over if he didn't comply, but to Chloe's eyes, he seemed furious and terrified at the same time. He was squeezing her hand like he'd never, ever let go.

“Who did you think could get down here from Heaven, Luci? Who did you think would have been willing to help birth your son?”

Lucifer deflated a little, but still stayed put.

Miriam put a hand over his heart. “I saw, and I came. I am here to help, and only help. You know that.” She patted his chest. “Now move.”

Chloe felt a little lost by their interaction. “So you know each other?”

Lucifer finally turned to her and ran his hand on her face down to her shoulder, her waist, her belly. “Miriam's my step-mother. You know, dear old dad's young new squeeze – hey!” He tried for an airy tone but it ended up a yelp when Miriam pushed him none-too-gently to the side.

“Amenadiel, please go back outside. As long as I am here, we are safe from our side, at least.”

Lucifer's general weirdness and crazy family weren't even fazing Chloe anymore. She had a baby trying to get out of her, and as long as no one was a danger to her or the child she didn't care.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur, pain and cries and Amenadiel popping his head in from time to time to check on them; Lucifer pale and shaky and glaring at his step-mom and kissing Chloe's hand; Miriam efficient and comfortingly bossy and reassuring. She thought it went faster than Trixie's birth.

When finally a baby wailed and squirmed and was deposited on her sweaty skin, she looked up at Lucifer and said, “we didn't even choose a name.”

“What about 'Angel'?” Miriam said.

Lucifer started crying then.

 

A few hours later, washed and exhausted, Chloe was half-asleep on the sofa, a tiny sleeping baby in her arms. She was propped against Lucifer, who alternated between kissing her hair, glaring at anyone who dared come too near for his taste, and softly feathering his fingers over the baby's delicate skull.

“I like Angel as a name,” she said. “He can go anywhere in the world and keep his name. That's nice.”

“Do you really think naming _anyone_ Angel Morningstar is a good idea?”

“Could be Angel Decker.”

“Mf.”

She grinned. “Deckerstar. Mornincker. Morcker?” She laughed out loud when he groaned.

 

In the early morning, Amenadiel had finished scrubbing everything – he apparently was a neat freak, which wasn't even surprising – and was sharing tea with Miriam, who had taken his place patrolling outside during the rest of the night. Maybe she was some sort of ninja, too. Lucifer's step-mom, the hippie ninja midwife.

 

Chloe woke up to a joyful squeal and her daughter, soaked from the rain outside, running to the sofa. “Mommy! Lucifer! And – ” Lucifer cut her off with a finger over her lips.

“Shh, Beatrice. Your brother is asleep. You should never wake brothers up, or they get very grumpy.” Amenadiel grumbled something from the kitchen and Chloe snickered.

“Okay,” Trixie whispered dutifully. “Hello, baby brother!” She was peering at his scrunched-up face. “You're all tiny!”

Dan was behind her, looking at Chloe wistfully and ignoring the go-away glares from Lucifer. “You were just as tiny when you were born, monkey.”

“Really?”

“Yup. And you hated being woken up.” He sat on the floor. “Your scary bartender showed up in the middle of the night to tell us to pack a bag and come ASAP. I was so worried, Chloe. I'm glad you're okay.”

Maze glanced over the back of the sofa. “Glad I wasn't here for the main event. I only like torture when it's on the damned.” She looked over at Miriam and Amenadiel. “Are we consorting even more with the enemy now? That big oaf not enough?”

“I come in peace, demon. My son and I do not wish for war. We do not wish for the prophecies to come true.”

Chloe felt cold suddenly. She'd forgotten everybody's insistence on prophecies and war and Heaven and Hell and her baby boy. He whimpered in his sleep when she squeezed him too hard. “No one's hurting my baby,” she said.

“No one wants to.”

“Dear old dad does.” Lucifer sounded grim.

“Shush, Lucifer. He does not.” Miriam had risen from her kitchen chair, carrying two mugs of tea.

A particularly loud thunderclap made them shut up, and everybody froze when two man-shaped things coalesced in the middle of the room.

“Cooool!” Trixie breathed.

“Hello, Gabriel, Michael,” Miriam said. She had a hand on Lucifer's shoulder and seemed to be restraining him. “What is your message?” she asked the smaller one.

“What – ” Chloe asked.

“I won't let you!” Lucifer was, in fact, really struggling against Miriam's smallish hand.

“No, seriously, what – ”

Maze was growling and biting Amenadiel's arm around her neck.

I mean it, what – ”

The shorter man – man? –raised a hand and everybody shut up. “On behalf of our father – ”

“Hah,” Lucifer said.

“As I said, on behalf of our father, I have come bearing a message.”

“Gabriel, you pompous, groveling – ” 

“ _Lucifer_ ,” Amenadiel, Miriam and Chloe said. He stopped trying to get out from under Miriam's hand, still glaring daggers at the two newcomers.

Gabriel sighed and held out some sort of parchment. Chloe felt seriously fed up with all the weirdness though. Fine, she was exhausted and could be imagining things but – huh. Trixie had taken the parchment and put it into her hands, and – well. It was... like taking off your sunglasses when entering a dark house in summer? She opened her mouth, but she didn't quite know what to say. Probably not the tiny squeak she did make.

She sat up, Angel in her arms, and looked around the room with her eyes wide open. She thought she could see something huge and fluttery behind Amenadiel's back, and there was a soft golden halo around Miriam and – Miriam. Oh god. She – oh god. Also – “Did you, in actual fact, really suggest we call _Lucifer's son_ 'Angel'?” Miriam only smiled beatifically. _Beatifically_. Hah.

“I _was_ an archangel,” Lucifer whispered in her ear.

“You still are, brother.” The taller guy – archangel – said. He had _wings_. She could see his _wings_. She – Lucifer.

“I think I need a drink.” She looked down at Angel and sighed. “Maybe just tea. And words. And – put that sword away!”

“Michael.” There was power in Miriam's voice, and Michael backed off, but didn't put his sword back into the scabbard.

Archangel or not, would he bleed like Lucifer did if she shot him? Chloe started edging towards her desk, hidden behind Lucifer and Miriam who had moved in front of her and her child. She had a gun in the drawer. She could shoot one-handed if she had to. From the corner of her eye she could see Maze, stepping over Dan who had apparently fainted, edging closer and getting her weird curved blades out from wherever she stashed them; and Trixie, mostly hidden behind Amenadiel's bulk.

“Your child will bring about the end of the world and you know it, Lucifer. It can still be prevented.” Michael seemed determined, but he couldn't be as determined as Chloe herself. Almost there. Almost. Her eyes met Gabriel's dark ones and she froze, but he only nodded at her and looked away. Okay. Okay, she could do it.

“You're all deluded bastards,” Lucifer was snarling. “My son will choose his path, and if you try to interfere again in his life _I_ will bring about the end of the world and _I_ will be the Beast.” A strong smell of sulfur filled the room, and she felt Angel burrow against her. Her fingers were on the holster, and she started to get the gun out. “We were not given free will but I took it anyway, and – Chloe!”

Half-hidden behind him, Angel sandwiched between his father's back and his mother's shoulder, Chloe aimed at Michael. “Get out of here or I'll fire, and it'll hurt. Ask Lucifer. Trixie, cover your ears,” she added.

“I like your girlfriend,” Gabriel said. “Now look, Michael, maybe we should just get back and give our report, and see what the orders are?”

Miriam crinkled her eyes approvingly at him. “That is wise. My son and I want no blood shed. And I do not wish on anyone the loss of a child.” she turned to Chloe. “You are brave and blessed. I think you'll find your child will be too.” She looked at Trixie. “Children.” Her eyes went back to Chloe. “We will meet again, years and years from now. You too, Lucifer. Angel. You know where to find me. Come,” she said to the two archangels. “Let us go back where we belong.” She walked to them, one tall and blond and curly-haired with a mulish expression on his face, the other shorter and with long, straight black hair framing a patient and serene gaze. Taking their hands in hers, she looked up and they vanished as they had come, in slowly fading light.

Chloe almost fainted from a sudden adrenaline crash right as Dan started stirring. Lucifer took the gun from her hand and got a chair under her, taking Angel from her shaky arms.

“I gotta say, you've got guts,” Maze said.

“Daddy!” Trixie yelled when she saw Dan starting to sit up. “Daddy, do you know what happened?” Maze put a finger over her own lips, and Trixie seemed to understand. “The nice lady left and you didn't even say goodbye! You were _asleep_!”

“He can't know,” Maze murmured to Chloe. “Would blow his little human brain out.”

“Given that in his religion Miriam's son is also Lucifer's father, you should have more faith in his brain.” Maze stared at her for a minute and then started guffawing uncontrollably. It wasn't very Maze-y, but Chloe's heart felt so much lighter for it.

“So. Anyone hungry?” Amenadiel asked.

 

They spent most of the day enjoying the return of calm skies. Dan had left in the afternoon, awkward but hugging his daughter fiercely. Maze, Trixie and Amenadiel stayed outside, playing ball and throwing Frisbees in the warm weather (Chloe had vetoed Maze throwing knives anywhere unless an archangel reappeared).

A doctor had finally come and pronounced mother and child perfectly healthy, and given the state of hospitals after the giant, days-long storm had let them be. Lucifer and Chloe watched them from the porch, the baby in Trixie's old bassinet at their feet. He'd tied a white and blue ribbon on it, claiming it was a present Miriam had left.

“So, the Apocalypse's been called off?”

“Apparently. Maze said all the demons on Earth had gone back to Hell too. I guess I should pop back there, put the fear of me back in their dark, shriveled little hearts.” He took her hand. “I don't really want to.”

“Can't it wait a few days? You're exhausted, whatever it is you've been doing has really done you in. And I want you here. Can you imagine Maze changing nappies while you're away?” She let her head fall on his shoulder. “I guess she's going back to working at Lux, anyway.”

“We can always mock Amenadiel instead. My brother's always up for it.” He looked supremely satisfied at the idea of Amenadiel dealing with baby poo.

“And what about you, Lucifer? When am I going to see you changing nappies?”

“Erm. Well. I guess maybe I can make an exception for the Antichrist's nappies. If the need ever arises.”

“Oh, believe me, it will. Often.” She grinned at him, her eyes even bluer in the afternoon sunlight. He thought they were the color of Heaven, of Miriam's tunic, of everything good and pure in the world.

 

When she went upstairs that evening, once Maze and Amenadiel had left and Trixie was, hopefully, asleep, Chloe tried to start to process the last few hours. Days? Months, probably. She'd needed some space, and Lucifer had gone to Lux for a few hours. He said he wanted to make sure his underlings were doing their jobs properly. She suspected they had, but she was grateful he had pretended everything was, mostly, normal for a moment.

She'd enjoyed a long shower first, telling Trixie to come get her if her baby brother needed anything; then she'd wrapped herself into her favorite, fluffiest bathrobe, gone downstairs to put Trixie to bed, and settled Angel next to her bed after nursing him. She'd have to get some formula soon, she mused.

Sprawled on the covers, she let her thoughts roam free, flitting from Miriam to the two archangels, from her baby boy to Amenadiel's wings. A hand brushing her son's soft forehead, she tried to understand what Lucifer had, in fact, been trying to do all these past months. What it meant that he was an immortal being and she was, well. Human. And what about Angel? What _was_ he? Would he grow old, wither and die like she would? Would he be forever young and full of life like his father? Miriam's last words still echoed in her head, but she wasn't sure what she'd meant. She felt a tear escape her eye, and she waited for Lucifer to come back.

 

Chloe was sleeping when he entered the bedroom, but she stirred and opened her eyes when he sat next to her.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I've got the devil's luck, to have you waiting here for me.”

She smiled at him. “Hey yourself.” He was still too thin, his skin stretched over his cheekbones and his nails cracked, his hair a bit too long and tickling her skin when he bent to kiss her neck. “Lux still standing?”

“Yep. Think I'll close it for a few months and refurbish everything. We can go on an island somewhere meanwhile, where the sea is blue and the sky is blue and we can forget about everything. What do you say? Just us, and Beatrice for the summer holidays, and we'll get Maze to bring us food, and we'll have sex all day long.”

“And change nappies.”

He pouted. “And change nappies. If you insist.” He looked over the edge of the bed. “Hey you, can't you stop needing nappies?” He looked back at Chloe. “Or we can get Amenadiel to do it. We'll be far to busy anyway.”

She laughed. “You don't know what you're getting in!”

“Yes I do.” He went back to her neck. “You're beautiful.”

“No I'm not. I've just had your child forced out of me, I'm a mess.”

“Are you questioning the devil's impeccable good taste?” He was indignant.

“I'm all flabby right now, and soon enough I'll be all wrinkly, Lucifer. That's reality. And then if I'm lucky I'll grow old and die.” He looked stricken. “Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“I don't want to,” he told her shoulder. “I don't want to, because you'll go _up there_ and I can't follow.” He'd stretched out on the bed next to her, an arm around her.

“It's not for a good long while yet, though. You'll figure something out. Come on, Lucifer...”

She scratched his scalp like he loved her to, and pulled at his white shirt. After a long, shuddery sigh he sat up, quickly undressed and turned his back to her to switch of the night-light.

“Wait,” she said. “Lucifer...?”

“What?”

She ran her hand on his smooth back, unmarred and pristine. He froze, half-turned towards her, eyes wide and wet. “Move back a bit,” he said.

She complied, and watched him step back from the bed and look around him. He took a deep breath and while he released it, slow and shaky, huge, white, bright wings coalesced around him. They took all the space in the room, majestic and almost blinding that first instant before he somehow dimmed their light.

“I... think you probably do need an entire island to stretch them out.” She reached out and touched a feather and he exhaled, closing his eyes. “They look like the feathers on those dream-catchers Maze and Trixie made.”

“Maze had squirreled some away from when I burned my... former wings, I should say, last year. I told her to use them for you.” He reopened his eyes. “Chloe...” He looked up. “...father?”

Angel made a tiny noise then, and Chloe scooped him up. “Look at your daddy!” she told him.

The baby opened his hands, and in them was the tiniest bottle, and in the bottle the tiniest drop of something that looked like blood.

On the wall, words appeared: “Samael, my son, you had to make a grandfather out of me, hadn't you?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually wary of pregnancy fics and I run away from actual, real-life kids. I mostly read slash, at best post a few hundred words every few years. I do hate depressing endings, but overly saccharine fics make my teeth rot.  
> Don't mind me, I'll just go and have a nervous breakdown over my identity in the corner.  
> Sorry.


End file.
